


Solitary Confinement

by orphan_account



Series: Boss [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Dom/sub, F/M, Fingerfucking, Forced Orgasm, Handcuffs, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, Scratching, Title makes it seem more dramatic than it is, dom!Chilton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your boss, Dr. Chilton, catches you somewhere you are not supposed to be.</p><p>
  <b>This work can be read independently from the series</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solitary Confinement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polia/gifts).



> A req that came from Polia, who wanted "something more dom-y, but also angry and calculating and ruthless…"  
> Hope this suffices :)

Working at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane definitely was not as bad as most people made it out to be. Then again, you may only think that because you don't have to interact with the inmates to do your job. You had been working as a receptionist for a month now, and it was really very easy to get into a routine. Most of your work involved you sitting behind your desk, with the occasional run down to the photocopy room. You were hoping to get a higher position eventually, but for now, you were just a receptionist and that is all the psychiatrists thought of you, if they ever thought of you at all.

They all know your face, because they pass it everyday. Most will greet you in some way or another, be it a subtle nod of the head or a 'Good morning!' with a smile. Others would look at you fleetingly, then walk past you without a comment. And then, there was Dr. Chilton, the administrator.

You don't think he has ever actually looked at you. You had never spoken to him directly, but you know a lot about him, or rather what happened to him. You are surprised at how little people like him considering how much he's been through. Everyone hates him despite him being disembowelled by a former patient and then framed for murder and shot in the face. Shouldn't people at least pity him? Apparently not because everyone you talked to said that he was a total asshole. He doesn't seem like one to you, but you figure that may be because you've also been told that he has changed a lot since his second injury.

Now, he just seems dark and brooding and quiet. He seems to not want to talk to anyone and seems to have a generally negative view on things. He flat out ignores you and many other employees, but you've heard that he used to talk down to everyone else, whether they were janitors or other psychiatrists. So no, he does not seem like a good person. Not really.

But you still feel something stir at the pit of your stomach when he walks by you in the mornings. Despite everything, you find yourself drawn to him, attracted to him, and you aren't quite sure what it is that makes you want to jump on him and rip his clothes off whenever you see him. 

The phone's ringing is what makes you snap out of your thoughts. You transfer the doctor on the other line to the appropriate department and hang up. You look at the time and realize that you have stayed overtime. Tuesdays were always slow and your supervisor had decided that you don't need to work such long hours and cut the work time be three hours. But you've been here for two of those three hours you weren't supposed to out of habit. The hospital was almost completely empty. The inmates had gone to bed and the majority of the workers were gone. You mentally slap yourself.

It was starting to get late and it was dark outside as you packed up your things and get up to leave. As you go, you pass by a tall, secluded staircase. You had always wondered what it lead to, but never actually asked. You stare at it for a minute and then decide to investigate. You have already stayed for two hours more than you were supposed to, what would be the harm in exploring a little for ten minutes? You look around to make sure no one is around, then climb the stairs to the top. You don't find much right away, but after walking around for a bit, you come to a big, metal door with a small opening in the middle. It was a little rusty, evidently from not having been used in a long time, and was cracked open.

You push it and it swings open. Your heart skips a beat when you see the inside of the room. It was a small prison cell with barely enough room to walk around. There was a small, unfurnished bed attached to the wall, and above it, a small barred window. Leaving your belongings in the hall, you enter the room slowly and wonder how the people locked in here survived the claustrophobic qualities. At the corner of the room, you see a pair of handcuffs on the ground. How did those get there? You walk over and pick them up, then decide that you've had enough of exploring. The BSHCI is not really the most pleasant place for adventure. 

You turn and gasp when you see Dr. Chilton standing in the doorway, watching you. You drop the handcuffs. He stands with both hands on his cane in front of him and his stance is wide. His head is raised so he is looking down at you. His mouth is twisted into a disapproving scowl and he watches you scramble to pick up the cuffs.

"You are not allowed to be in here," he says.

"I-I'm sorry, Doctor," you stammer. "I was just-"

"Do you have some interest in solitary confinement, miss?" he hisses. "Do you just love controversial forms of punishment?"

"I just wanted to see what was up here," you murmur, looking down at the floor. 

"Well, you found it," Chilton says. After a moment, he asks, "What are you doing with those handcuffs?"

You turn red. "They were on the ground," you explain quickly, "I was going to take them down to security."

His dark, angry expression doesn't change as he steps forward and swings the door closed behind him. Your heart speeds up as he walks slowly towards you. "This particular room hasn't been used in years," he says. "The room is in a completely different wing than all the other rooms, so it was just inconvenient to come all the way here for one inmate. It's still perfectly useable."

By now, he is standing right in front of you, his face inches away from yours. You stare at him, terrified, but you also are slightly aroused by the proximity and the feel of his breath on your face. You mentally slap yourself. Snap out of it! You could lose your job for this!

"Would you like to know what the worst part of this room is?" he asks.

You nod without thinking.

"It's not just the solitude," he whispers. "It's the sounds. Listen."

He pauses and you both listen. After a few seconds, you start to hear clanking or drips on metal or scraping… You can't quiet put your finger on what the sound or sounds are, but you feel uneasy hearing them.

"Hypersensitivity to every single noise made outside these four walls," explains Chilton after a moment. "It can drive a person insane."

"Sounds like a fine place to put someone who is already insane," you mutter.

He raises an eyebrow at you. "You are opposed to solitary confinement?"

"I think it's inhumane," you say.

He leans into you, bringing his face even closer to yours. You step back.

"Well, then it's a good thing that it doesn't matter what you think," he snarls.

You frown and look down, not wanting to look into his unkind eyes. You don't say anything.

"Is it a habit of yours to go about where you are not supposed to be?" he asks.

You quickly shake your head no.

"I have to say I don't believe you," Chilton replies, stepping towards you. "I run a very prestigious institute here and I can't have some secretary running around breaking rules."

You step backwards as he walks towards you. "I-I'm a receptionist," you stammer.

"Well, that's even worse."

Your grip on the cuffs tightens as your back hits a wall. You have nowhere to back away to. Chilton leans towards you, getting as close as he can without touching you. _If this is to scare me, it sure is working._  "It won't happen again, sir," you mumble.

"No, it won't," he says, his breath tickling your nose and lips. "I intend to make sure of that."

You look up at him, your heart pounding and your eyes wide. "Wha-"

"This is a prison," Chilton continues, cutting you off. "Surely, it can't surprise you that I believe in punishment."

Before you can respond, Chilton grabs your face with one hand and kisses you. You let out a small, startled sound, but eventually succumb to the kiss. Your heart is pounding against your chest and you can hardly believe what is happening. All you know is that Dr. Chilton has his tongue in your mouth.

And you have yours in his.

He pulls away suddenly, leaving you with your eyes still closed and your mouth still open. You quickly regain what composure you have left and look up at him. He is looking at you with the exact same expression as before, but this time your face is between his fingers. "Is this a problem?" he asks you quietly.

Despite your absolute shock that this is actually happening, you find yourself shocking yourself even more by answering Dr. Chilton by shaking your head no. Sure, you had fantasized about him grabbing and kissing you in a dark corner of the BSHCI, but you had never thought that it would happen, and you never thought that you would actually go along with it if it were to happen.

He kisses you again. "That's what I thought," he says against your lips. He leans his cane against the wall.

You drop the handcuffs and put your hands on his shoulders as he pulls you to him. You love how he feels against you and you love the hand he has on your hip. His tongue, his body, his hand all have you feeling lightheaded and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. But this time, it's not just you; you can feel Chilton's dick getting hard underneath his suit. Soon, it is pushing against your stomach. You pull away from him, confused. "I don't understand what's going on," you say.

"We are kissing," Chilton mutters before meeting your lips with his again.

"I know, but-"

He forces your mouth open and enters his tongue, cutting your question off. He presses his body to yours, the wall against your back keeping you in place as he takes your breasts in his hands. You moan at the touch, bringing a hand up to his face. You can feel the bullet scar underneath your hand and run your fingers over it, feeling the smooth raises of skin that are surrounded by the tiny hairs of his beard. 

You feel a twinge of sadness run through you, and you lighten the kiss slightly, thinking that Chilton might want things to be more tender, but you are proven wrong when he bites your lip hard and pulls away. He looks at you with his dark expression as he grabs your wrist to pull your hand away from his face. He grabs the cuffs from the floor and drapes them over his shoulders. You drop your hands to your sides and watch him as he undoes the buttons of your blouse without looking at you. He pushes it off your shoulders and onto the floor, then unclasps your bra.

When it hits the floor, you bite your lip and look up at him, nervous. Dr. Chilton is staring at your body with that same neutral expression, and you feel your hairs stand on end. He does not move, and he does not touch you, and he does not say anything. He only moves his eyes to look at your waist and stomach and breasts and ribs. Starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, you raise your hands to cover yourself, but Chilton stops you. 

He grabs you by the elbows and pushes you onto the bed near you both. You gasp at his sudden roughness as you fall onto the metal bed, the hard landing shooting a jolt of pain up your spine. Dr. Chilton climbs up on the bed and rests on his knees with your body between his legs. You feel the blood rush through your entire body and your heart is beating so fast that you are afraid you might have a heart attack. He takes the handcuffs from his neck and clasps it around one of your wrists, then hooks the chain around a bar from the window above the bed, then cuffs your other hand. 

You lay there, your hands cuffed above you, and your boss glaring down at you. This could easily be a scene from a horror movie, but you are more turned on than you thought Chilton would ever cause you to be. He pulls down your skirt with his hands, purposely scratching the sides of your legs with his nails as he removes it. When he sees that you're completely soaked through your panties, he raises a mocking eyebrow at you. You turn red.

He continues to look smugly at you as he lowers your underwear, then kneals on his knees between your legs. "You know," he purrs as he removes his suit jacket and undoes his belt. "A lot of inmates figure that the best way to cancel out the sounds is to be as loud as they can." Your breath shudders when he pulls his engorged dick out of his pants. "Do with that information what you will," he adds as he takes your hips in his hands and raises your body up until you feel his tip at your entrance.

You take a deep breath to ready yourself, but nothing would have prepared you for the sudden thrust that comes.

Your mouth falls open and your eyes shutter close. Dr. Chilton slams hard and fast into you, causing your entire body to tremble. You grunt loudly at his every entrance and you writhe underneath him. Your hands strain against the cuffs. "Oh-h my god, sir!" You yell out.

He groans and lets go of you. You fall down against the metal and let out a gasp, arching your back from the pain. Chilton lowers himself onto his hands and continues to pound into you. He fucks you deep and hard and fast. The steel of the bed is burning your skin as you are rubbed against it and your wrists hurt from all the weight put onto the cuffs, but all you can concentrate on is Chilton's movements. You open your eyes, only to see his unkind eyes staring down at you as he fucks you mercilessly. His eyebrows are furrowed, his nostrils flared, his teeth bared. He looks at you like you are some sort of prey and you don't know why it is turning you on so much.

You bend your knees and anchor your feet on the bed and start thrusting your hips to meet his. He groans at the movement and leans down to bring his face to your chest, running his tongue firmly over your nipples. "Fuck," you hear him grunt as he snakes one arm around your back to lift you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, using them to push him in deeper with every thrust.

You moan loudly every time he enters you, and hear your sounds echoing back at you in the bare room. Your entire body starts to tense up underneath him. Chilton adjusts his position so he can rub your clit as he fucks you, and as soon as his fingers touch your sensitive folds, you climax. A wave of pleasure washes over you as you arch your back and cry out. He moans as you clench around his dick and pushes in even deeper, prolonging your orgasm. You tremble and your breath hitches as you strain against the handcuffs. 

He pulls out and you slowly come down from your orgasm, but he is not done with you. He takes your legs and guides them up to his shoulders, then leans forward until your thighs are pressed against your chest. You stare wide-eyed at his unforgiving expression as he puts his hands on your ribs and enters you again. You squeeze your eyes shut when he starts going at it, and let out whimpers with each thrust. He knows you are sensitive from your orgasm, but he is not being gentle with you as he pounds hard into you, digging his nails into your skin as he does.

As his own orgasm gets close, his thrusts become erratic and you scream so loud that you feel your throat get raw. Chilton tenses up, but pulls out of you before he climaxes. Pushing your legs out of the way, he moves forward until his dick is by your face. Before you can say anything, he pumps it with his hand, giving it three solid strokes before coming with a deep groan on your face and chest. It gets into your mouth when you gasp and you instinctively swallow. 

"That's a good girl," says Chilton, stroking your face gently before climbing off and standing next to the bed. You look up at him. His chest is heaving and the collar of his shirt is lined with sweat. You whimper quietly when you see the expression on his face. He is still not done.

He bends over you, leaning one hand on the bed for support, and lowering the other one to your folds. You shudder as he starts rubbing circles on your clit, slowly picking up speed until you're gasping and your legs are spasming. "Stop," you gasp out, and he immediately removes his two fingers from your clit and lowers them to your cunt and pushes them in. You cry out as he moves them fast inside of you. You moan and grind against his hands and his movements get rougher and faster. Soon, he curls his fingers and hits your g-spot. You writhe and moan as your second orgasm hits.

"Fuck!" you breathe as he keeps his fingers inside your clenching pussy. You ride out your orgasm against his hand and open your eyes to look at him. He is biting his lips as he looks down at you, his hair falling over his eyes so you can't tell which expression he's looking at you with. Once you've come down, you wait for him to take his hand away but he doesn't. Instead, he enters a third finger. 

"No-" you start, but you cut yourself off with your own moans as he moves his fingers inside you. Your insides feel raw and your body is shaking as he continues to finger you while rubbing your clit roughly with his thumb. You pull yourself up by the handcuffs, trying to get away from him, but Chilton puts his free hand down on your stomach so that you can't move. 

"I told you this was a punishment at the start," he growls. "Did you think you would enjoy it?"

You gasp in response, your legs convulsing around him.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks.

"Y-yes!" you moan. 

He takes a breath and starts rubbing harder. "You have to be more convincing than that," he murmurs as you cry out. 

"Please stop!" you gasp out between your shallow breaths. "I've learned m-my lesson a-and I-oh! Oh!"

You yell out as your third orgasm sneaks up on you, your body completely jerking around, but even still, Chilton does not stop.

"You what?" He snarls, prompting you to finish.

You blink away the sweat from your eyes and try to concentrate on your words. "I'll never… break your r-rules again, sir," you whimper. "Please, just stop."

You gasp in relief when he stops the movement of his fingers. "I guess we'll have to see if you really have learned," he says as he takes his hand away from you. 

You fall limp on the bed and watch as Chilton stands up and backs away from you. He picks up your blouse and uses it to wipe his hands clean before doing up his pants and belt. He picks up his jacket and puts it on, then pulls his skeleton key from the pocket to remove your handcuffs.

Once your hands are free, he throws your clothes on you. You massage your bruised and scratched wrists before slowly moving to get off the bed and get dressed. Your legs were sore and your back was hurting, and you could already tell that it would hurt to walk tomorrow. But despite everything, you find yourself wanting him even more now that you've had a taste.

Chilton grabs his cane and looks down at you as you sit up. He does not seem sorry, and he does not seem smug. Frankly, he seems completely indifferent to the fact that he just fucked his receptionist in a prison cell.

"Don't let me catch you in here again," he mutters before turning and walking out of the cell, leaving the door wide open.

You use your blouse to wipe the sweat and come from your skin, figuring that it would be okay since Chilton already used it to clean his hand, then put it, and the rest of your clothes, back on. Your breathing returns to normal and your heartbeat begins to slow. This day ended up becoming crazier than any sex dream you may have had. You wonder how he was going to behave in front of you now. In any case, you had told Dr. Chilton that you had learned your lesson.

But if this was his idea of punishment, then you may just have to break the rules more often.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was, uh… Ahem. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought and if you have any prompts/requests/etc (:


End file.
